


Swear On Everything You Hold Dear, Dear Boy

by Sodium_Azide



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Crowley Gets Shushed And He Hates It, Crying Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Drinking & Talking, Ineffable Walnuts, Love Confessions, M/M, Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:53:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23999290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sodium_Azide/pseuds/Sodium_Azide
Summary: “I want you to swear on everything you hold dear that you will not be angry with me.”The following pause was heavy enough to crack the sidewalk outside. The demon opened his mouth, closed it, then jumped to his feet quickly enough to startle his companion. A half-dozen steps to the cabinet with the good liquor, a neat pour generous enough to be called bribery, and a bracing swallow prefaced the eventual hissing exhalation. “Right. Ok. Go on.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 182





	Swear On Everything You Hold Dear, Dear Boy

**Author's Note:**

> As I am legally required to write at least one confession fic, and fully believe that Crowley is waiting for any excuse to be soft to his angel, here is an example of Aziraphale crying at least 3 different kinds of tears for Crowley to comfort. Happy ending, of course. Have you met me?

“I want you to swear on everything you hold dear that you will not be angry with me.”

The following pause was heavy enough to crack the sidewalk outside. The demon opened his mouth, closed it, then jumped to his feet quickly enough to startle his companion. A half-dozen steps to the cabinet with the good liquor, a neat pour generous enough to be called bribery, and a bracing swallow prefaced the eventual hissing exhalation. “Right. Ok. Go on.”

“You didn’t swear.”

“Yeah, that won’t happen. Just say what you have to say and we’ll go from there. Do you need me to kill someone, angel?”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, then his gaze fell to his shoes. “I regret many things that I said and did during our apocalyptic near-miss, but I had hoped you would be kinder about that.” 

“No! Sorry-I didn’t mean it. I was...just trying to ease the blow, right? ‘Cause it wasn’t gonna’ be that, yeah?” 

The angel nodded silently, then made a ghastly attempt at a smile. His hands, folded tidily in front of him as usual, tightened enough to whiten his knuckles. Crowley knocked back the rest of his drink, staring fixedly at his companion, then gestured with the bottle. “Siddown. Drink with me. Liquid courage and all that.” The angel almost visibly gathered himself, then stiltedly walked over to his favored chair, comfortably worn to his exact shape. “Thank you, dear boy.”

Drinks dispensed, Crowley resumed his unblinking stare the way only he could, leaning against the cabinet in easy reach of the bottle while the angel dithered. “I just want to be honest. I am so tired, so very tired of being untruthful. Hiding from Heaven, hiding from you, always half-truths. I mean, I don’t plan on wandering among the humans and declaring what I am, I’m not entirely an idiot. Still, I lie. All the time. It’s not right, and I hate it, and there is really no excuse anymore, other than me being a coward. I suspected that I was, but it’s been so terrible, just awful, knowing for sure.”

Crowley finished his second drink and immediately poured another. “Can I talk yet?”

“No! No you can’t! If you talk, than I will never be able to again, and I will have to somehow hate myself more, because I am damned if I do and damned if I don’t, and I can’t seem to actually do anything, and I have terrible habits, so I do half of what I should do, which is somehow worse than nothing at all!”

“Angel-”

“No! Ssssshhhhhh.”

“You did not just shush me!”

“Please, Crowley,” The angel moaned. “Just let me finish and then you can say as much as you like.” 

The demon sullenly sipped his third drink, gaze flickering between Aziraphale’s face and hands.

“I. I had a customer today. Armand? Perhaps you have seen him. We did a book trade once. One of my Rilke poetry books for a nice second edition Poe with an unusual-oh, it doesn’t matter,” Aziraphale cut himself off. He hadn’t looked directly at Crowley since he sat down. “Anyway. He asked me out for coffee. I am a fool, but I have lived in Soho long enough to know what that means, and I didn’t even think, I just told him I couldn’t, because I had someone. And then I just kept talking. I could not stop myself. Now he knows more about you than Hell ever did, and I have violated your privacy and violated your trust, and I don’t have you, and now you know that I am a coward and a fool, and terribly forward, and a liar.” The angel’s voice was thick as he gasped out the last few words. Clutching his glass in both hands, he lifted it, but his lips pressed together and he set it down on the side table before hiding his face. “It was one thing to recite what was expected of me. To call you a foul fiend. But you expected it. We understood each other, even when I behaved poorly. This was just a...fib, to a human man, but it was a betrayal of you, and I have no excuse.” He finished miserably.

For a very long moment, no living creature moved in the bookshop. Crowley exhaled very slowly, then pushed away from his lean to meander his loose-hipped way towards the angel. Any possible dignity garnered by this immediately fell with him as he dropped to his knees in front of the angel, who seemed to dearly wish to curl himself up into a ball, with only centuries of politeness preventing him from putting his brogues on the furniture. Fine-boned hands hesitantly grasped the angel’s wrists to uncover his face, blue eyes brimming with guilty tears. 

“Angel. You do have me.”

Aziraphale stared as Crowley gently pulled, with hands that barely trembled at all, until he could press the gentlest possible kiss to soft scholarly knuckles. 

“You have always had me. You know you do. You didn’t lie.”

A hiccuping giggle as Aziraphale smiled helplessly, and Crowley grinned broadly back at him, then they were both laughing hysterically as Crowley scrambled up into the chair and Aziraphale crushed him to his chest. The demon’s legs dangled over the arm of the chair and his arm was awkwardly tucked between Aziraphale and the upholstery, but even as the laughter slowly faded into deep happy sighs, neither of them even twitched away from the other.


End file.
